


If One Day We're Ever To Part

by DarkEyedDreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, human! castiel, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3588399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkEyedDreamer/pseuds/DarkEyedDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean wrote Castiel a letter in high school, and Castiel finally reads it for the first time four years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If One Day We're Ever To Part

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the girl I couldn't make stay

Being home sick was awful. Castiel found that having a minor illness in high school was much different than in college. In high school, he'd have accepted the day off with gratefulness. Now, he spent the entire time worrying that the person who was taking notes for him was going to miss something, and that he was going to fail. He was irrationally telling himself that he could have gone, despite the fact that leaving a ten foot radius of the bathroom so far today has resulted in him needing to wipe down the kitchen even after he cleaned it yesterday. He felt much better now, but the risk kept him from heading to class.

It was for this reason, and this reason alone that he was currently busying himself in the bedroom in attempt to keep his mind off college for a while. He found this forgetfulness in a box of old books that he'd never gotten around to unpacking when he'd gotten his dorm. It was mostly from his personal collection, and he'd never had the urge to reread them yet, so he allowed them to sit there in the back of his closet for as long as it took him to finally get around to finding a place for them. Apparently, today was that day.

He wiped his brow after a moment, putting away his copy of Romeo and Juliet, (his friends all teased him for being "sappy" for owning a copy of the historic old play, but he took it as what the author intended, a tragedy and not a romance novel) He'd unpacked about a third of the boxes when he spotted it. A book less familiar than the others, but one that made his heart swell.

It was a grey book, one that had no title. Castiel didn't need one to recall it was something about old types of cars, and how they'd changed over the years. He recalled- less than vaguely- getting it as a present for valentines day, wrapped with a little bow that was lopsided. He never read it, the book hadn't been particularly interesting to him. He wasn't much of a car person. He didn't find it nearly as interesting as the hurt look the owner of the book had given him when he'd handed it to him. A hurt look that led to a movie night with a lot of kisses. He didn't recall the movie, he spent most of the time staring at his boyfriend's face and attempting to get the sad look out of his eyes. It took much too long, despite him insisting nothing was wrong.

After a moment of thought, he opened the small book with a curiosity he didn't recall having. He wondered, for the first time in a long time, why it hurt Dean so badly to give him this book without a title. He didn't seem to care too much about it. He said he'd picked it up when he dropped his younger brother off at the book store. He was a curious person, but something about the plain little book had left no impression. Especially not compared to the hundreds of other little gifts he'd been given through out the relationship. So, the book had been forgotten, put aside with the rest of Castiel's forgotten books.

He frowned in confusion when a paper fluttered out of the pages, landing on the floor in front of him. He set the book down slowly on the bed, kneeling down to pick up the white shred, which he found to be an envelope. He turned it over in his hands, admiring the familiar- and slightly messy- handwriting. 'If One Day We're Ever To Part' it read in clear letters.

Curiosity sparked in him as he carefully tore it open, setting the envelope down with the book as his eyes scanned over the handwritten letter. He felt a small smile tug on his lips as he began to read, and without meaning to, began mouthing the words silently to himself, and feeling like he did back at age 15, when he first started going out with the love of his life.

 

Dear Cas,

If you're reading this letter, it means one of two things actually happened. Either you decided to humor me and tried reading this book when we both know you hate cars, or you missed me. And if you missed me, that means I'm gone. For whatever reason. Either because I couldn't convince you to come with me, I'm dead, or we just faded apart... I hope not. I hope that right now, I'm on the highway (not an airplane, lets be real) looking in the rear-view mirror and hoping to see your car. But I want to tell you right now, as much as I hope that will happen, I'm not expecting it. I will never blame you if you never stop me. Never show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. I don't expect you to give up on your dreams for me, because I know you don't want me to give up mine for you so I really shouldn't expect it from you.

That being said, I want you to know I'm never going to stop loving you. I don't say that to make you feel guilty, I just want you to know that no matter what happens when high school ends, and how far you go to chase all those dreams that flutter around in your mind that you'll always have someone who loves you. No matter how many stupid fights we have, where one of us ends up slamming a door and the other one sits down outside the door until it's reopened. No matter how many times you think I forgot something important. No matter how many times you're right about that. (April 4th, ha. I'm not a complete moron)

Right now, you're thinking that I really am a moron, because that's not our anniversary. Or even close to it. But that's not what April 4th is. April 4th is the day we got caught in the rain for those firework displays. And you were laughing, and I could see how badly you wanted to tell me that you told me so (which you did, but not at the time) and instead of driving you home, we stayed at the beach, hidden in my car and listening to Led Zeppelin. I don't think you really liked it, but you still put up with it until I let you choose your own song. I liked that better... but only because you were singing along and it made me smile.

I think that was the day I realized I loved you. And that I was perfectly and utterly screwed beyond belief. Because before you, I told myself that I didn't make ties I couldn't cut. Other than Sam, I could up and leave at any time and never look back. I was okay with that. I was happy with that. Living like that didn't hurt. And then I met you, and things got all kinds of fucked up. When I told you about my ties, you just looked confused, and you did that (not at all cute) head tilt and I knew then this was going to be different, but I didn't know how. Well... now I do.

The funny thing is, I know this is going to hurt. It's going to hurt really friggin bad when you leave. And that's everything I hate. Everything I've been hiding from. But I don't regret it. Not at all, really. I would do it all the same way if given the chance. Because thanks to you, I have some good memories (and a bigger vocabulary- seriously do you know modern English Cas?) that I'll never really learn from. But they're good to have. For when it gets too lonely being alone.

If nothing else, I hope you're happy. I hope you followed the biggest dream you had, and somewhere along the line you found yourself truly happy. Even if that means hearing about you getting married to a pretty lady or a lucky guy sometime. If that's what makes you happy, don't think for a moment you shouldn't go through with it. Don't think I'll be mad at you, because I could never be mad at you for long, and you made me happy for so long- so if I couldn't do that anymore you deserve someone who will. Even if I show up unannounced. I probably had plans to interrupt the service, but never worked up the nerve. I probably saw you smile and realized you're happy, and that I shouldn't ruin it. So... there's an early explanation for you. I don't deserve you, and I want you to know that now. You wasted your time on me. You spent so much time trying to heal a broken teenager that you're going to lose yourself Cas. And if I was any kind of man I would leave you, but I'm not and I can't. So, thanks for putting up for me as long as you did.

If you find this before we part ways, don't think this was me trying to guilt you into staying. As much as I wish I could make you stay, I'd never make you do something you don't want. So... I guess this is really just a final goodbye. Thanks for caring about me Cas. I don't know if anyone else will ever be able to do it as unconditionally as you. So I wish you luck.

Love,  
Dean

 

Castiel stopped reading, eyes wide. He felt like he couldn't breathe, a lump in his throat that could very well be his heart. There were tears in his eyes, and he wasn't even sure if they were falling already. He set the letter down with shaky hands, not wanting to ruin it by crumbling his hand into a fist without meaning to.

Dean.

Dean had wrote him a note. For when high school ended and they went their separate ways. And Castiel had never seen it before? Never even known of its existence. He'd never thought that there might be a reason it hurt him so badly to give him this book. He didn't give two shits about the book. He cared about the letter. The letter in which he told Castiel that it was okay to let go. He was setting him free... telling him to follow his dreams and live his life and be happy. Damn that boys selflessness.

He heard the front door to his apartment swing open and within moments, he was stumbling into the embrace of two strong arms. Now he was sure he was crying, because Dean was whispering soothing words that didn't quite reach his own ears. Castiel did the only thing he thought of, and swatted his arm. Not hard, but enough to make the slightly taller boy blink in surprise. 

"Did I do something?" He asked slowly.

"You didn't think I was going to come with you!" Castiel replied, looking up to meet green eyes staring down at him like he was a rare specimen he was the only one who got the pleasure of seeing.

"I take it you found the letter?" He said, piecing two and two together very quickly.

"Of course I found the letter." Castiel replied, hiding his face in Dean's neck and taking a few deep breaths. "Why didn't you think I would come with you?" He asked softly.

"Because you were talking about all these pretty places. But you never talked about me being there with you." He explained slowly. "And I didn't know if it was because you assumed I'd know, or because I wasn't there..."

"Paris would be dreary and mundane compared to a sunrise with you." Castiel replied with a wry smile, repeating the words he'd told Dean when asked to come with him to college in California. It was so far away from home, yet not far enough really.

Dean chuckled softly, and Castiel knew he understood. "I'm so-" Castiel cut him off, not wanting to hear an apology for Dean caring so much. Instead, he leaned up and caught the others lips in a kiss, holding him close like he was afraid Dean would disappear.

"Why don't we watch a movie?" he murmured when he finally pulled away. He found himself searching Dean's eyes for any sign of emotion. The only one he saw was happiness, and it shone brightly.

"Sounds perfect." He murmured, smiling softly, ducking down to steal another kiss. "I'm so so glad you didn't leave me." He said, and the relief in his tone left no doubt.

"How could I ever? You're better than anything I could have found in Paris." Castiel replied without thought, and the quickness of the words didn't make them any less true- at least in their minds.

That night was oddly like high school. The good part of high school. Movies, popcorn, and dorky teenager-like kisses that was more smiles than real kissing. It was like the past had brought itself back to life just to remind them of what things used to be. Castiel smiled at the thought. He missed high school sometimes. Missed handwritten letters and sneaking out at night. But this- he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he'd definitely made the right choices on everything up to this point. Because snuggled up close to the man he loved, watching a movie Dean couldn't believe he'd never seen, the moment was perfect.


End file.
